Exhaling a breath he
closed his eyes. “M-my name is Courtney Ambrose McKenna born to Alfred
and Danielle McKenna…” He paused and swallowed when Wyatt didn’t
comment and turned his head slightly to see that he was listening
seriously.

“I…
I started reading at age two… My mother always called me Courtney; I
hated it. By age twelve, I was out of primary school and was studying
at the University…”

Wyatt blinked in surprise but didn’t interrupt.

“My
parents were nice enough but we weren’t what you’d call close…” Ambrose
continued. “In some ways, I think they were afraid of me… because I
knew so much…because I was so young… and still, I had everything I
wanted as far as my education was concerned. Anything I showed interest
in, they would make sure I had…” Ambrose trailed off and sighed
heavily. “Maybe they were right to be afraid…”

“What do you mean?” Wyatt asked, shifting slightly and changing hands as he continued to massage Ambrose’s neck and head.

“Well…
I might not remember everything, but I know that some of the tools used
to take over were my designs… though they weren’t intended to be used
for such things as they were… If I hadn’t invented them…”

“Someone else would have,” Wyatt said gently and reached out, touching a finger to Ambrose’s chin.

Wyatt
closed his eyes briefly, the sincerity in Ambrose’s voice tugging at
his heart. “So do I,” he murmured in reply, meeting Ambrose’s gaze
again. “So do I…”

Ambrose
flushed slightly and lowered his gaze, wondering not for the first time
who this man was and what their relationship had been. Had they only
been friends? Or had they been more? “A-at age fifteen, I – I’d
completed my study and w-was asked to stay… to teach.”

Wyatt swallowed dryly. “I take it you didn’t,” he murmured.

Ambrose bit his lip and shook his head slowly.

“Why not? I doubt they would have offered you the position if they didn’t think you could do it…”

“No
one respected me,” Ambrose replied. “I was just a kid to them…that they
must be dumb if a kid was teaching them…so I didn’t take it.”

“They would have gotten over it…” Wyatt assured him.

“Would they?” Ambrose asked looking up at him before shaking his head and lowering it. “I don’t think so…”

“Why not?” Wyatt asked, cocking his head curiously.

“I… I remember this one kid…” Ambrose murmured, not looking at Wyatt. “H-he was so
angry that I was smarter than he was… that I passed him in my classes…
that I graduated early…” he said softly and his voice hitched and he
trembled.

“Ambrose?” Wyatt asked uncertainly when he noticed.

Ambrose
took a shuddering breath. “I – I turned down the job at the school
b-because I didn’t know what he’d do… w-when I was eighteen, I was
approached by someone from the castle… the Queen had heard of me and I
was summoned to an audience… s-she hired me…”

Wyatt
nodded, swallowing. Ambrose was slightly calmer than when he’d talked
about the mysterious student, but he was still visibly shaking.

Ambrose
paused and reached over to the low table and picked up the apple with a
slightly shaky hand, and took a bite, chewing it slowly.

Wyatt
took the time and shifted; moving to stoke the fire again, worry
gnawing at him as he wondered about Ambrose’s reaction in revealing his
life to him and wondering just who that kid had been and why Ambrose
seemed afraid of even talking about him.